


Forgotten

by fingalsanteater



Series: More Than Friends [2]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Canon Related, Crying, Depression, Desperation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Compromised, Emotionally Repressed, Irrational Decision Making, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Missing Scene, Mutual Masturbation, Sexuality Crisis, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3397856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingalsanteater/pseuds/fingalsanteater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I lied when I said I didn't remember what happened after we came down off the mountain. It's a blur, but I remember. I just chose to forget. </p>
<p>Set towards the end of book 30, "The Reunion," when Marco is suffering from disassociation and depression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> This briefly references my fic, "The Wait." It's not really a sequel, but it can be taken as such.
> 
> Please heed the warnings. This fic features underage characters in sexual situations. If this bothers you, do not continue reading. Any negative comments regarding the underage content will be deleted.

I lied when I said I didn't remember what happened after we came down off the mountain. It's a blur, but I remember. I just chose to forget.  
  
Jake and Cassie took me home. Well, more like dragged me home. I was so numb and beyond caring that my legs weren't working very well at the time. If it had been up to me, I would have just laid down up there and never got up again. Become a part of the rocks, my body melting into the cracks of the mountain until only my bones were left. But Jake and Cassie didn't let me. They dragged my sorry carcass back home.  
  
Thankfully my dad was out on a date when we made it in. It's good Jake and Cassie didn't have to try and explain what was wrong with me to him. Jake left me with Cassie while he grabbed the spare key hidden under the kitchen windowsill. I was standing shakily by this point. Literally shakily, as my knees felt like they were knocking together.  
  
Cassie had thrown my arm around her shoulders in an effort to steady me. She was holding my hand which hung loosely off her shoulder, rubbing her fingers across my knuckles and squeezing my fingers gently. It was nice, and she was nice and I was sorry I forgot it later.  
  
After Jake got the door open, I was able to climb the stairs to my room with only a little maneuvering on their part. From there, I just crawled into my bed, face up on top the covers.  
  
"He's in shock," I heard Cassie say.  
  
"Well, yeah," said Jake shortly. He sounded scared. "Wouldn't you be?"  
  
"I'm worried for him too. We can't just leave him here alone like this." She was whispering, though I wasn't sure why. My room was small enough that I could hear every word anyway.  
  
"I can tell my parents I'm staying over tonight, but after that..." He trailed off uncomfortably.  
  
"Well, I can't just stay over at a guy's house as a human - I'm sure his dad isn't that lenient - and I don't think us being in any kind of morph right now would be good for him." Cassie sighed. "Stay with him tonight and I'll see what we can do tomorrow. Maybe he'll be better in the morning."  
  
"Yeah," said Jake darkly. "Maybe."  
  
"I've got to get home. I'll be back in the morning if I can." Cassie sounded so weary.  
  
"Let the others know he's home," said Jake. I heard my door open and close as Cassie left.  
  
Jake pulled my desk chair up to the side of the bed. It was silent for a while, just me staring up at the patterns on my ceiling and Jake's quiet breathing. Then, I guess he started to get really worried.  
  
"Look at me, Marco," he demanded. I didn't move.  
  
He continued. "Marco, look. It's hard. Shit, I know it's got to be so hard right now. I know you hate pity, so this isn't pity. This is your best friend telling you that I'm here for you, man. I've got you and we are going to get through this, okay? You and me. I'm going to help you through this."  
  
I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. I didn't even bother to wipe them away.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jake stand up. He walked to the foot on my bed and climbed in. If I hadn't been so out of it, I would've been surprised. Shimmying up next to me, he rolled on his side and propped himself up on his elbow so he could see my face. I normally would have been embarrassed by the fact that Jake was watching me cry, but I couldn't even feel embarrassment.  
  
"I'm just going to..." He didn't bother finishing the sentence, like he knew it sounded stupid. But, he did take the edge of a sheet and wipe the tears from my face. It was too much. All of a sudden I felt too much. I felt horrible that he was being so nice to me after everything. I'd messed up. I'd messed up so bad. I'd almost gotten him and Cassie killed. I'd exposed our secret and my identity, just to hear my name in my mom's voice. And, then I'd killed her. I'd killed my mom.  
  
A sob escaped my lips. I clutched Jake's hand and curled my body towards his, burying my face in his chest. He was still for a moment, considering what he should do, probably afraid of my outburst. Probably disgusted with me. Then, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him.  
  
I cried for what felt like hours while Jake rubbed my back and petted my hair and murmured soothing, hopeful things like "It'll be okay," and "Shhh, I'm here." He never said he was sorry. I cried until I fell asleep, Jake's arms still around me.  
  
When I woke up, it was dark except for the glow of numbers on the clock and the shine of street lights through my window. Jake must've gotten up at some point and turned out the lights. He was back in bed with me, and I was cuddled up to him, his arm tucked around me. My head was on his shoulder, one arm scrunched up between us and the other thrown across his chest.  
  
When we were kids, we used to sleep in the same bed when we had sleepovers at each other's houses. Sometimes head to feet, which resulted in us poking each other in the face with our toes, giggling as we purposefully shoved out feet in each other's faces to gross each other out. But, sometimes, we slept face to face and talked almost all night, trading stories and trying to make each other laugh. We'd never cuddled before.  
  
In the dim artificial light, I could see Jake had put on a pair of my sweatpants and too small t-shirt. The shirt was short and had been rucked up in sleep, exposing his stomach. I couldn't help but stare. It was a nice stomach, flat and muscular, with a slight soft give. I watched as it moved up and down as he breathed, the rhythmic motion a strange comfort.  
  
I wanted to touch his bare skin more than I'd ever wanted to touch anything in my life. It was a desire like I'd never felt before; or, at least, never really considered before. I vaguely recalled wondering what it would be like to kiss him, but had squashed the thought before I had time to dwell on it.  
  
What would it be like? I'd never kissed anyone. Jake's lips looked soft, his mouth down turned and relaxed with sleep, bottom lip thrust out slightly, giving him a small pout. If I kissed him right now, would he wake up? Would he reciprocate?  
  
The fact that I was seriously thinking about kissing my best friend was an indication of how out of it I was. I never entertained thoughts like that.  
  
Sometimes, when I saw guys on TV or at school or at the mall, I thought about them the same way I thought about girls I liked. Thoughts like I'd like to get to know them better, that they were cute. My stomach flip-flopped nervously when the sales guy at Sam Goody asked me if I needed any help, just like it did when a cute girl talked to me. They were always just fleeting thoughts or emotions that I didn't think too much about. It was weird to think about other guys that way, so I tried not to.  
  
My bare foot was rubbing against Jake's ankle, down to his toes and back up again. My hand was inching down his chest, down until my fingers brushed the skin at the edge of the shirt. I stopped there, just idly caressing the soft skin just below his ribs.  
  
Then I got a hold of myself. I jerked my hand way like I'd been burned. I rolled over, out of bed and went to the bathroom. I used the toilet and tried not to look at myself in the mirror when I washed my hands. I was afraid I wouldn't recognize who I saw in the mirror and thought frightened me. I cleaned my tear-stained face and brushed my teeth, trying to get some of the scummy feeling out of my mouth.  
  
Jake was still breathing peacefully when I got back to my room. I traded my morphing outfit for soft pajamas and a baggy cotton shirt and crawled back into bed. Jake was still sprawled out, arm out so I could use it as a pillow. I tried to move his arm so I wouldn't have to be touching so much of him, but, as I did, he stirred.  
  
"Marco?" He muttered blearily.  
  
"Y-yeah, it's me." My voice cracked and sounded strange to ears, like it didn't belong to me.  
  
"Hey," he said, sitting up to face me. "Are you..." He stopped. He didn't want to ask how I was, the question was just a reflexive courtesy. He already had some inkling of how I was feeling. We stared at each other for a long second, my eyes unable to focus on any one feature, and continuously darting back to his mouth. He licked his lips.  
  
I'm not sure what I thinking then. All my barriers had broken when I watched my mother fall to her death. I didn't have control. I wasn't myself.  
  
I kissed him.  
  
I wrapped my hand around his bicep and I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.  
  
He stilled. He didn't push me away, but he didn't reciprocate either. His lips were soft and unmoving under mine. I pulled back after a few seconds, heart thumping painfully in my chest.  
  
In the dark, this close to him, I could see his blue eyes were wide with surprise. He reached up and gripped my shoulder. I didn't stop to think about what I was doing. I felt like I was seeing him clearly for the first time.  
  
I kissed him again, rubbed my tongue along his lower lip. He opened his mouth slightly and I brushed my tongue against his. He was wasn't kissing back, not really. More like he was letting me do what I wanted. I climbed into his lap. He pulled back, breaking the kiss.  
  
"Marco," he whispered, his voice thick. "I'm not... I don't..." He was stuttering, unsure of what to say.  
  
"Me neither," I said automatically, leaning in to kiss him again.

He held me back with the hand on my shoulder.

"Marco." He kept saying my name like it was something precious, whispering it so the two harsh syllables softened into something like a sigh. I had wanted to hear my mom say my name again, but now she was dead.

I put my hand on Jake's face and stroked down his cheek, like he'd done when he was wiping away my tears. I rubbed my thumb against his lower lip, where I'd just licked him. He subtly pulled his head away.

"It's not right," he continued, his voice breathy. "You're not yourself now. This isn't you. You aren't..."   

That stung. I guess he was going to tell me I wasn't gay. And I wasn't. All I knew is I wanted to kiss Jake and I didn't care about the consequences or the implications or the fact that it wouldn't have been right for him to kiss me when I was still in emotional shock.  

"Please," I whined. "Just let me."

"No, buddy. Let's just go back to sleep, okay? We can... talk about this in the morning."  He looked away, staring at some non-existent thing on my wall. I guess he felt guilty about shutting me down.

In retrospect, Jake dealt with being kissed by his best guy friend far better than I would have. But, I didn't care about how understanding he was being. I was angry.

"Oh, right," I said hotly. I was still sitting on his lap, straddling his thighs. It was an awkward position to have an argument in, but I wasn't about to move very far. I just sat back a bit so I could get a better look at his face,  "In the morning you'll give me some kind of talk about how I didn't know what I was doing and you'll feel sorry for poor, pitiful Marco who isn't himself. Well, newsflash, Jake, this is me too!"

Jake's hand clenched harder on my shoulder at my outburst.

"I don't..." He paused and sighed. "Look, I care about you and I'm trying to do the right thing here." His eyes were locked on mine.

"The right thing for you," I said bitterly, avoiding his gaze.

"For both of us," he countered, quietly. "Come on, you have to know that, man."

I ignored that statement. Instead, I trailed one hand down his chest, to the soft stomach I'd wanted so badly to touch earlier. He let me. The too short shirt stopped just below his navel and I touched the skin there with gentle fingers. He sucked in a shuddery breath and I watched my fingers as they brushed over the soft hairs below his navel that went down, down to a place that I'd never even considered touching on another guy. Never, except for now. I pushed my hand up, under his shirt, slowly caressing the skin I couldn't see, the skin I wanted to see.

"Marco," he sighed. He leaned his forehead against mine, breathing harshly through his nose as I splayed my hand on chest, over his heart. It was beating fast, like my own. I tilted my head and kissed him for the third time.

He kissed me too, this time, lips pressing against mine, mouth opening slightly. Each time our tongues brushed together a frisson of heat through shot through me. It pooled in my belly, warm and comfortable and what I thought I needed.

Jake broke the kiss first.

"Okay. Okay," he said shakily. "That's enough. Let's just..." I cut him off with another kiss, not willing to stop. He drew back after a second.

"Let's just... how about if we do this?" He laid back, bringing me with him, still straddling his hips. "Here," he said with a grunt. "Let's lay on our sides and..." He shifted and I rolled on my side. It took a little maneuvering, but  quickly we were face to face. My head was pillowed on his arm again, his other arm loosely wrapped around my waist. I still had one hand over his heart. I caressed the soft skin of his back with the other.

We were just in each other's space, breathing each other's air and it was nice. I pressed in closer to him, and kissed his jaw. I kissed his jaw and corners of his mouth and his cheeks and the tip of his nose and his eyelids and he let me. He took slow steady breaths as I kissed him and he didn't once pull back. I kissed him until all I knew was the taste of his skin, the feel of it under my lips and hands. Until I knew was sound of his breath in my ears, the way it hitched when I put my hand on his hip and squeezed. Until all I knew was the blood pounding my ears and the hard heat between my legs.

I thrust myself against him, needing to feel that pressure. He gasped loudly and I captured that sound with kiss, swallowing it down.

"Touch me," I begged.

"God, Marco. This is... ah." My hand slipped in between us, under the waistband of his borrowed sweatpants, and wrapped around him, cutting off whatever it was he was going to say.

"Okay," he panted. "Okay." I kept kissing him, wet and messy as his big, calloused hand slid down and gripped me too. It was an odd, uncomfortable angle for both of us, but I was so desperate and needy that it didn't take long, a few tugs and I was spilling in his hand. He took a little longer as I slowly stroked him, but eventually I felt the pulse of his orgasm and my palm filled with something slick and warm.

I was breathing hard into the crook of his neck, tasting sweat and skin. My skin was buzzing with a weird energy, the sound filling my head and blocking out all thoughts but one: I'd just had sex with my best friend. It seemed surreal, like everything else that happened. I wondered if I was ever going to wake up from this dream.

Somehow we got cleaned up. I think I found a dirty sweatshirt on the floor to wipe our hands on. I didn't bother changing my pants. I was suddenly exhausted again. I just rolled over, facing away from Jake and tried to sleep. He didn't touch me, but I could feel him there, curled behind me, his breath ruffling my hair.      

The sun was shining in my eyes when I awoke the next time. Jake was sitting my desk chair again. He must have been watching me sleep. It was a strange, but it made me feel warm inside.

As my vision cleared of sleep, I saw he had his serious face on. My heart stopped. "I haven't told you yet how Cassie and I stayed alive up on that mountain, have I?"

"Hell of a way to say 'Good Morning,'" I tried to joke. My voice was croaky. I felt exhausted and crusty and scared.

"I almost died. I was almost stuck in a half-cockroach morph," he said. My breath caught in my throat. "Cassie saved me." Her name was sharp in his mouth, a spear that pierced me straight through.

He told me the whole story of how he survived almost being burned alive by Visser Three's attack. With Cassie's love and assistance, he all but said. My insides were ice, guilt and shame and bitter jealousy freezing every part of me. Last night was just a dream, I thought desperately. Let last night be a dream, I begged silently. Let him be telling me this just to fill me in, and not to make some point.     

He leaned towards me, elbows on his knees. "You're my best friend, Marco," he said. "I care about you... like a friend." It was the conclusion to his story, punctuated like the period at the end of sentence. It was final. I was an idiot.

I tried to swallow around the lump in my throat. My brain was swirling with emotions - guilt, anger, disbelief, fear, despair. I couldn't pin one down. I couldn't deal with this. I closed my eyes, shutting out the image of Jake and replacing it with darkness. I rolled over to face the wall.

"I want to be alone now," I mumbled.

Jake was silent for a minute or so.

"I need to go home anyway," he said awkwardly. "Do you want me send someone over to keep you company? Tobias?"   

I barked out a laugh. "No. Just go, Get out of here, Jake."

He sat there for a minute more. Then he stood and put his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged him off. I didn't want him to touch me. I was so mortified and angry at myself for losing it. And, for risking Jake's friendship for what?

"Marco," he said sadly, "It's okay. We can just forget it. I'm still your best friend."

I felt tears on my face. I didn't answer him. He heard the door open and close as he left. I tried to sleep, but I kept hearing Jake's words in my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about how I wished I could go back in time and do last night over again. Do yesterday all over again. I found the remote and turned on the TV, trying to distract myself.

Two days later, when Rachel came to lay some pity on me and tell me she thought my mom might be still alive, I'd all but blocked out everything that had happened with Jake. I had convinced myself it had been a weird dream. All that happened, I told myself, was that he told me how he and Cassie survived.

By the end of the week, I told myself I had no memory of kissing Jake. It was like someone had just erased that whole week, starting from that horrible day where I killed my mom. I went back to school and fighting Yeerks like nothing ever happened between Jake and I. And, if Jake was a little distant with me sometimes, I pretended not to notice.

Nothing happened, I told myself, as I put on the shirt he had been wearing that night. Nothing happened, I said, as I climbed into the bed where he'd held me while I cried. Nothing happened, I sighed, as I curled up and tried to forget the way he whispered my name.    


End file.
